


Experiments

by Ann7121



Category: Blake's 7
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-25
Updated: 2020-04-25
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:29:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23844496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ann7121/pseuds/Ann7121
Summary: The Federation has many ways of dealing with dissidents and deserters. This is a new venture.
Comments: 4





	Experiments

They found him by chance during one of their periodic round ups of Outsiders. Just his luck to be hiding out with a group suspected of supplying bush meat to dissidents. Terror at what they might do to him was mixed with relief - he'd hated living in the open: the unfamiliar sounds, the ingrained dirt under his fingernails, the smells. Hated the gamey wild protein and blemished fruits they ate, and the water which tasted of vegetation. Most of all, he hated the sky, roofless and infinite, and the panic he had to quell whenever he looked up; a panic which worsened as he sweated the suppressants from his system. 

They were rough with him at first - a blow from a blaster to the back, a kick when he stumbled, but once the machine had identified him as Trooper Bax they were more careful. Cursing and spitting at him left no obvious mark. He was cleaned up, shaved, put on trial. 

"Why?" they asked him repeatedly. He couldn't stay, he said. Not after Zircaster and what they'd done to that woman and baby. "What had they done?" He couldn't answer. Just thinking about it brought the bile rushing to his throat.

Guilty of Desertion and Gross Dereliction of Duty. Assigned to Bucol 2. It didn't seem too bad. He was to help the Federation they said: an important experiment. He and a few other deserters were herded into a transporter. Calmed by the soma vapour, back on Dome rations, he was almost happy. Six months it took them to reach their destination. They played cards, sang songs, shared photos of those they left behind. At least they were alive.

"This one is promising!" 

Repeated sessions on the machine had left him disorientated, weak, the pain in his head worsening with each procedure, and he squinted to bring into focus the shape that was reading the print out of his results. It turned towards him. Empty eyes examined him.

"Yes. He's our best bet." 

Darkness. Resistance. Light.

***

His head feels heavy, unbalancing his movements, and when he lifts it, he finds he is staring at a solid white block where all the blue should be. The straw feels familiar/dirty. It confuses him what he feels. There are more white blocks around him. "Walls" he thinks, but where the word comes from he doesn't know. He doesn't like it here. He misses his herd.

A voice... smooth like water but with a taint. He doesn't trust it.

"Food, Og. Food. Come to the hatch." 

Og? Is that him? He remembers another name, but doesn't know what it was. 

The enticing smell of food mixes with another scent, sweetly sour, sharp, different. Wrong. "Danger," his instincts scream, warring with reason that insists he must go forward or starve. Hunger overpowers thought. He scrambles onto four legs towards the smell.

"Stand up", a command from deep in his brain. Insistent. "Stand up. We're not an animal."


End file.
